


Clean Hands

by DeadBeyond



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018), The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:41:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23324917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadBeyond/pseuds/DeadBeyond
Summary: As reality fell, She-Ra worked to stop the portal-world from fracturing, forces conspired to use her for their own nefarious ends. The result ends up sending her across the universe, right in the middle of Chicago where Harry Dresden is dealing with the Denarians. Now the Princess of Power and Chicago's only professional wizard have to deal with resulting collision course.(A one-shot that takes place during Small Favor and the finale of She-Ra Season 3)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Clean Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Ziel for looking this over.

**Clean Hands (Dresden Files x She-Ra and the Princesses of Power)**

Reality was falling apart and, despite Catra’s manic rantings, it was not Adora’s fault. For now, the necessity of the situation overtook the building guilt. She held the sword aloft, the one thing that was both the cause of this mess and the only way to fix everything: the Sword of Protection. It was the linchpin that made this reality-ravaging portal world possible.

And it was the only way to restore things back to normal. The Sword of Protection’s blade gleamed in this white abyss, highlighting the circuit patterns inscribed on it. Adora took a deep breath, knowing the cost to get the sword back into her hands: Angella, her best friend’s mom, sacrificed herself. She took a deep breath, preparing to lift it up to say the words that would transform her into She-Ra and save the world.

She started to raise it up as the forest grounds around her continued to crumble back into the void. Then it all started to waver and titter, the words getting caught in her throat. All because of a voice so much like Catra’s whispering four words.

Four damning words:

_She’s all your fault._

Adora staggered, half-expecting that whisper to be punctuated by a ‘ _Hey, Adora.’_

Somehow that would have made things so much more easier to dismiss. It was familiar, typical even, in their fights. It would have been intrinsically linked to Catra. With its absence, there was only a gaping void that accompanied the words, dragging Adora back in to claim responsibility for her failure.

Angella _was_ her fault. She was suppose to be _She-Ra_! And she _saved_ people. But Adora couldn’t save Angella. The world could afford her a moment to grieve. The sword finally slipped from her fingers, pulling Adora downwards. She followed its descent down, landing on her knees and wept.

How could she fail Glimmer? How would she tell Glimmer that her mom wasn’t coming back?

Adora wiped away those tears. She wouldn’t have to face this alone. She would stand tall together, with her friends at her side. Adora drew a breath and stood back up. It was time to right this wrong, this disastrous consequence of trying to open a portal out of the dimension of Despondos and communicate with the wider universe. It was in Despondos where Etheria rested and it was there that they would return to. The final act of the previous She-Ra, Mara. A desperate move that Adora still didn’t totally understood.

If things went wrong here, was this how Adora would be viewed? She breathed. It didn’t matter.

She raised the sword skywards and spoke.

“ **For the honor of –“**

 ****There was a _rip_ that broke through all the barriers, as tear from here to there opened up. Adora shivered, not understanding where ‘ _there’_ was. But it was somewhere _outside_ this place, a location that wasn’t quite in Despondos and definitely not a part of the universe outside. A wave of fear washed over her, causing her shoulders to hunch and the sword to swing from its perch up on high. A perplexed, fearful expression withered away the previous determined glower.

With a stuttering turn, she saw eyes that burned like stars. She screamed, waving her sword. The cadence rose and rose until it morphed into a battlecry.

“ **For the honor of Grayskull!”**

 ****The magic tried to overlay her physical form, to transform her into She-Ra. The world began to crackle, break, and reshape. But it was not enough, not against those terrible, eyes that burned black holes into where they gazed. Those dreadful eyes were beyond the wider universe, beyond the stars, _outside_ all knowledge.

Only the mantle of She-Ra was warding off that influence, from twisting this portal world into a wretched plaything of their own design. But it wasn’t gonna last, not forever. Like gravity increasing, the magic had dropped at her feet and the transformation glitched, grafting only to her boots. Her free hand slammed onto the hilt, as if she could force out the transformation that would serve as a sympathetic conduit. As she changed, so would everything else. It was a beacon in a quickly blurring reality.  
Adora realized quickly that the magic was split between saving the world and becoming She-Ra.

Not even a choice.

“For Etheria, for my friends,” she whispered a pledge to protect. Adora slammed the sword down, shunting the magic away from her and into the world around her. The process to fix the world was kickstarted and she tried to raise the sword once more to repeat those words to renew another transformation. Up until an unseen force struck her as one would a bug, flinging her across several dimensions. She skipped across the void, the only light being the flickers of stars.

In between the blinking darkness, Adora could sense some greater scheme at hand, guiding her trajectory. Then that sensation was lost amongst the forgotten thoughts that burned away from the blossoming, pounding pressure that emitted from inside her skull.

Adora awoke in a cramped quarters. She blearily broke into a flailing frenzy, as the feeling of falling had not yet faded. She scrambled into a fighting stance, trying to draw the sword from her back, but it smacked against the compressed walls.

She took a moment to calm down. Adora looked to the right, seeing some sort of waste reciprocal. Nothing like the fancy overdone toilets of Brightmoon, but vaguely reminiscent of the ones in the Fright Zone. Spartan, almost. Her nose scrunched up, her eyes roaming to the left. The mirror did not show a kind image. Her eyes were bloodshot and sagging, and the sight did the complete opposite of rejuvenation. It drained her of all vitality and the aches started to set in.

She leaned against the wall, groaning. Adora stretched out her hands, watching them shake. It was clear that something was stolen away as a toll for this travel, to wherever she was. Adora cast one last look in the mirror.

Her hair was messy, the poof of hair atop her head was askew and her pony-tail was almost undone. She did a quick fix job for her dark blonde hair. People may disparage her usual style, but she was in unknown, potentially hostile territory. Best to play everything as cool and casual. Better to have an interesting hairstyle than a messy one.

Unless she was in Horde territory, in which case she was probably enemy number one and she would forgo her this strategy and go with her usual bravado.

She shook her head.

“Come on, Adora. You’ll be fine. Get back to your friends and you’ll be fine.”

Adora clenched her fists. She knew Etheria was saved, but that image of a looming, gnawing gaze refused to leave her.

She pushed open the door, one leg swinging wildly after another. The people seated gave her an odd look. They were lined up against the walls, leaving a small aisle for her to maneuver in. It felt like the vehicle was rumbling on a set path with the way it shifted yet otherwise remained steady. The people didn’t seem to mind unlike her gawky presence. She grinned surely, snapping her fingers into a pointing position. The very epitome of collected cool, she was… she hoped.

The fatigue was what totally undermined the people’s reception and the not gesture itself. Or maybe it was the sword on her back.

She stumbled to an open seat and sprawled across it. Adora sighed, shutting away the world. The staring eyes didn’t bother her. It was only when she realized the whole environment was rumbling when she opened her eyes with a startled flinch. She grabbed a hold of the seat, quelling her panic best she could. And that made her notice the people sitting across from her. A serious-looking man was lounging with his eyes half-closed with a hand stuck inside his jacket, groping for something.

His daughter on the other hand was giving her a very creepy look. Adora tried to meet her eyes and when that failed, she settled for a friendly wave.

The girl tilted her head. Adora didn’t stop waving. Finally, with a stilted motion, the girl returned the gesture before looking at a tiny wristwatch. A spark of real emotion manifested on her face: complete and utter surprise. She turned to her father, showing the watch. His eyes shot open, stiffening and pulling out a weird looking tracker pad. It flipped open and he checked the screen. Adora didn’t know why that was the thing he was fondling so much. She was pretty sure it was a weapon. The man frowned, bolting onto his feet and staring at the clock inside this long, rumbling vehicle.

The ground started to stabilizing. Adora got up, looking out a nearby window and saw only pitch black.

_Oh, crud, did I not fix things?_

She forced herself to move, as a line of light began to flash in that inky dark. The doors began to open up, creating an opening for a creature to be flung into this foreign mode of transport. It slammed inside, steaming, and she got a look at this lanky, eyeless, and ape-like beast. It screeched in the artificial light, drowning out everyone else’s screams. Adora watched the darkness begin to bleed inside, smothering the light.

The father began to move, but Adora had already sprung into action. She overshot, one leg swinging wildly in the air, but she pirouetted back into a fighting stance with her sword.

“ **For the honor of Grayskull!”  
** **  
**The magic transformed her into She-Ra. Her red, shoulder padded jacket gave way to a white uniform with a six-pointed symbol on front. Two small golden pauldrons rested at her shoulders, holding together a red cap. A winged, tiara capped off long, luminous blonde hair that flowed behind her.

She smashed her fists together, flashing into existence a pair of golden bracelets. Then she reared a fist back and punched the creature back into the dark. There She-Ra stood, eight feet tall and now brandishing the sword. The weariness was now pushed away, but left a gnawing rot inside her. The energy around that black hole was still there, before being drawn in and devoured.

She-Ra stepped out, bathing the area with an aura of light. The blackness was beaten back, causing those creatures to shy away. They were in some sort of station, though it was certainly more casual and informal than those in the Fright Zone.

“Don’t like the light, huh?” She pointed the sword at them, noting the two others in the midst of those creatures. “One chance, if you can understand me. Leave these people alone!”

The creatures scampered away as she strode forward, swinging the sword in a casual manner. They backed away from her, but they did not flee. The people behind her in the long, snaking vehicle were the priority and she needed to keep these creatures’ focus on her.

“Well, then, who’s first?” she called out.

Without words, the pack of creatures charged, trying to overwhelm the lights with sheer numbers. She had to grin, ready to take out some of the accumulated frustration. She-Ra swung the sword, shooting out a slice of energy that cut them down and turned pieces of them into a weird mush. Was it some sort of new creation of the Horde?

Didn’t matter at this moment. The force cut down the ones right in front of her, but not the ones coming at her side. She slammed the sword down, sending a burst of energy all around her and flinging them back. The reprieve didn’t last long as a huge, armored goat person struck on the broad-side of his own sword. She had enough time to change the sword into a shield and block the blow. But it could only mitigate most of the force. The rest just swept her off her feet and across the station, smashing into several benches as she did.

She groaned, rolling onto her side and watching her attacker prioritize a tall man in a dreadfully, gaudy coat. As she huffed, her She-Ra form wavered, flickering between being Adora and She-Ra. A bearded man dressed like some sort of knight stretched out his hand to her.

“You alright, miss?” he asked.

Adora took the hand and She-Ra rose. “Just peachy.”

She eyed his sword, something spoke of a quiet, solemn power to it. There was a radiance to it that her own sword couldn’t hope to match.

“Cool sword,” she commented.

“Likewise,” he replied with a kindly smile.

She leapt into the air, bringing the sword down on a creature that flung itself at her in a desperate bid to bring her down. The knight covered her flank with precise work, not a single stroke wasted. That growing hole, on the other hand, was emptying her out. In the corner of her vision, she saw the father hold back his daughter from the fray. But the dark was growing, the creatures becoming emboldened and it was going to spill over. Then those creatures would descend upon them. Those were the people she had to protect.

The darkness wasn’t about to dissipate, while the energies sustaining her as She-Ra were being depleted. It was clear that it could be better spent.

She shoved out that dying light and let it ignite into a supernova explosion. Adora screamed, levitating into the air. The sword was pried from her fingers, floating outside that blooming, bursting aura. It was briefly suspended beside her before the bubble of light and magic flickered, causing the sword to drop to the ground. Everything started to dwindle and Adora curled up, reaching deep inside her for _more._ She stoked the fire inside, letting it build.

And then she let it all out, screaming as the last of the light lashed away that murky darkness. It vanquished all the creatures and lit up the world like the multiple moons of Etheria. Though the light remained, the world darkened to a close and she collapsed, falling.

XXX

It wasn’t every day that the love child of Thor and Wonder Woman went supernova, but it was a very blinding experience in all the meanings of the world. It was a very heavy duty magic that she threw out. If it wasn’t for the purity of it, it would have blinded more than my eyesight.

I tried to blink and wondered if Gard sent out one of her cousins or something. She was tall and outrageously blonde. What else could she be? But the feel of the magic, blunt and unorthodox, was so transparent in its intent: protection. Very specific in its targets. Maybe she was an Amazon? But I hadn’t had the pleasure of encountering one during my professional career as a wizard.

The world came back, marred by a serious of blotches that ebbed away at my sight. But it was clear enough that Tiny had not survived the magical fireworks. Right when I was in the middle of offering him mercy. Well, Wonder Woman here certainly attracted him here and at least it was balanced out by her taking him out. I really hoped this didn’t cause me any trouble down the line when the other gruffs came a-knocking. After all, I was now two for two.

Finally, I could see much more clearly, I realized that the light was not fading from the station.

I prodded at it with my senses and got a very clumpy sensation in return that stuck to me like sweet sugar. It clung onto the world, but it was quickly dissolving away, turning sour and slick with each ebb.

Hobbling my way over, I saw Ivy and Kincaid step off the train. They would been a great equalizer, but they were not here in that capacity. I didn’t hold it against them, with Ivy in particular as she especially couldn’t afford to shed the role of neutral arbiter. And Kincaid was a mercenary.

Michael was kneeling by Wonder Valkyrie, examining the bulky and gaudy sword. It almost liked like an unwieldy prop sword, more at place an amateur theater than the real world. If not for the fact that she smacked a hob away like it was nothing, I would have thought it a ceremonial ornament.

The girl was noticeably different without the sword. Smaller and far less blonde for one. And she was significantly younger than her Amazonian form.

Hell’s bells, she was barely older than Molly. The girl was the type that straddled the line between teenagehood and adulthood: old enough to take on the world, but young enough to stumble back into the same old trouble, just much less forgiving.

I turned to face the two new arrivals. “Ivy, Kincaid. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“The storm,” Kincaid summed up eloquently.

“Sir Knight, will you please pick up the outlander for us? I have some business to discuss with her.”

“Already planning to help escort her to safety,” Michael said, already carrying the girl.

She turned to me, acknowledging. “Harry.”

Then Ivy started a brisk walk to the exit, leaving me to reel on what she just called our Amazonian ally.

_Outlander._

Nice and ominous and utterly close to the word _outsider._ Just by the fact that Ivy and Michael didn’t outright smite the girl had to be a good indicator. Still, the similarities made my skin crawl and gave me a headache.

It was another complication. I wondered if she would end up being connected somehow to this quickly spiraling conflict.

I could only hope that it was, because nothing complicated matters than an entirely unrelated problem.

Well, when it rained, it poured.

Best to take shelter behind some wards back at my place.

XXX

The world came back slowly and the unfamiliar environment jolted Adora into action. She leapt onto her feet, reaching for the sword, and found nothing. She swerved in her stance, fists at the ready and started to jab at nothing in a most nonthreatening manner.

Her eyes wandered to the occupants of the room. The child from earlier seemed to be the focal point of a discussion that was just wrapping up.

The father was the most tense, while everyone else looked at her warily. Her sword was under the knight’s arm. That reassured her somewhat, that it was still within view and that the man hadn’t totally claimed it for his own.

“Where am I?” she asked, trying to decide whether to strike or fall back.

“That has a complicated answer,” the girl said, stepping forward. “I am called the Archive and for now, I am the only one around to handle these matters.”

“Well, I’m Adora and I have to ask: what matters?” Adora sighed, wanting to throw up her hands at the world. “I have had a very, very long and stressful couple of days. I don’t know if any of my friends are alright and...”

“You had a very long day and I understand. Things must seem very… different. But there’s a precedent for these matters.”

This time Adora did throw up her hands in frustrated exasperation. “Can you please stop dancing around these ‘matters’ and just tell me?” Her voice dropped, strained by the stress of the day. “ _Please.”_

The Archive gestured at the couch behind her. “Why don’t you take a seat first?”

She dropped like a rock, before propping her elbows on her knees and staring at the girl intently.

“You’re in an alternate world,” the Archive stated.

Adora’s eyes bulged and she jerked back. “What?”

The confusion was punctuated by the tall man’s own surprised reaction. “What do you mean, Ivy?”

“She has not swam against the currents of time, but there, as there has to be, divergent rivers. And sometimes, these waters cross over,” she declared in a monotone, matter-of-fact voice. “Frankly, we’re quite lucky that she’s from one so divergent, judging by the style of clothing. It would not aid matters if an alternate version of an important figure appeared. It would prove… troublesome.”

Adora sat back, staring at her worn out hands and digesting the words. It made… a strange amount of sense. Especially after experiencing that wacko, portal world where everything was wrong. She didn’t hear the brief conversation, just trying to figure out this unreal situation. It seemed like yesterday that her biggest concern was preventing Hordak contacting Horde Prime.

Unreal.

She was adrift, gravitating through space, nothing to tether her. Before she could act, Adora had to crash back down. It was time to take the plunge and jump, force out those words, to vocalize and become real.

“So,” she said, softly, catching everyone’s attention, “I am on a different version of Etheria.”

The Archive parsed those words, looking troubled at the implications. “Can you… describe Etheria?”

Adora cocked her head. “I thought this was Etheria?”

“Humor me.”

She shrugged. “Well, the Etheria I’m from is currently locked away in the dimension of Despondos.”

The troubled look on the Archive grew further. “What about the astronomical side of things?”

“There’s no stars in Despondos,” she replied.

“Not that.”

“What? You mean the _moons?_ ”

The Archive sighed in confirmation and a heavy silence followed. It was broken only by the tall man’s comment.

“I expected first contact would have more little green men and less blonde girls.”

The knight nodded at the remark.

Adora shook her head, trying to catch up on the subtext. “So.. less universe travel and more regular space travel.” The Archive nodded and Adora continued, “Do the words First Ones or Eternia mean anything to you?”

“No,” the Archive replied, “May I ask why?”

“The First Ones… they came to Etheria and did stuff to the planet’s magic, amongst other things.”

The Archive straightened up. “I’ll have to bring this matter to the appropriate authorities, after I deal with business I was called here for.”

The tall looked at the Archive. “You mean the Council.”

“Yes, I have to, Harry.”

“But why?” I don’t think aliens fall under their purview.”

The Archive looked left and right in a childishly conspicuous manner. “Do you wanna know a secret?”

Harry looked bemused. “Sure.”

She leaned close and whispered loudly, “Aliens don’t like magic. Some of them left a signal for everything to stay away from Earth. Magic should be exclusive to Earth and today we just found out that this isn’t the case.”

“Life finds a way, huh?” Harry summed up.

“Indeed. And while we wait for the Warden Captain, would our immigrant please fill us in on how you arrived here on Earth.”

Adora gulped, trying to figure out how to condense the entire conflict and her world in a concise, but meaningful fashion. Trying to sum up how she basically saved a broken reality.

At the end of it, the Archive squinted at her sword, as if she was reading something complicated and then said, “You bear the mantle of She-Ra.”

“Yeah…" Adora rubbed the side of her arm. Then something steeled inside her and her posture snapped into place. “That’s why I have to get back. I _have_ to get back.”

“Don’t worry, kid,” Harry interjected, “I’m sure Ivy can help out. And for what it’s worth, I can throw my hat into the ring. I doubt _I_ can figure out anything, but maybe I’ll find something.”

“All of that,” the Archive cut in with a cold, official tone, “will have to wait while I perform the role I was brought here for. It is best to send our enemies away before they try to interfere in this situation.”

Harry scratched at the fuzz on his face. “Seems like we have our hands full.” His eyes looked over at Michael. “Maybe Molly can keep Adora safe and occupied while we deal with the Nickelheads.”

“I can help!” Adora protested.

Harry shook his head. “Different world, different rules. And if all goes right, we’ll deal with them with a bureaucratic uppercut. And if we bring you, that’s definitely gonna trigger a fight.”

Adora slumped, muttering, “I don’t like it.”

“Michael, do you think Molly is up for the role of alien liaison?” Harry asked.

Michael seemed to find the thought funny, chuckling while the Archive remained dry as ever. “Would you trust your apprentice to such a monumental task?”

“Of course,” Harry replied, without missing a beat.

Adora’s hands squeezed at her knees. This was out of her hands. And there was little she could actually do. She wasn’t a sorcerer and even then, she wasn’t sure if the magic would provide a short-cut. She was a warrior, she was _She-Ra_ , and she saved people. It grated at her that she couldn’t save anyone. From the tone of the room, these Nickelheads, whoever they were, seemed like bad news. If she couldn’t dealing with them, then how could she help the people of Etheria?

She exhaled. Adora had to trust her friends to handle matters, while she also had to trust these people for now. There was just less of a connection here. And normally there would at least be a burgeoning sense of trust. At the end of the day, she wasn’t rooted this place. She was _other_ , an outlander to this planet.

And if things didn’t get better, this would be her new home. Except it wouldn’t be her home. She wasn’t even native to Etheria in the first place, but it was the connections that rooted here there. Adora didn’t want to be a twice-displaced orphan. Her knees started to throb and it was only the presence that settled next to her that made her realize the uncomfortable expression on her face. Michael sat next to her, holding out the sword to her. A tangible gesture of trust and one that Adora wasn’t intending to go back on.

Belatedly, she realized that everyone else had left the immediate area to discuss other matters.

“You okay, Adora?” he asked.

Up until then, it seemed like she hadn’t been addressed so personally. She unclenched her hands and took the sword. It seemed unwieldy, almost outwardly hostile in comparison to the somberness of Michael’s own sword. She focused and shifted it into the form of a bracelet.

Michael didn’t comment on this, instead asking, “How are you taking this?”

She pursed her lips, turning away. Silence crept around her, threatening to pull her into its grasp. So, she stepped away and forced out a word. “ _Bad.”_

He waited for her to elaborate.

“Bad,” she repeated. “I don’t know if I’m ever going to get back home. I _know_ I saved them, but the Horde’s still there, and I don’t know if we even stopped them from contacting Horde Prime.” She stared at the bracelet, at the blue gemstone in the middle. “It’s my responsibility to save them. But I don’t think everyone can be saved if this is how things turned out.”

“What do you mean?” he prompted softly.

“I used to be in the Horde and my… friend… or maybe something more… best friend, maybe?” She shook her head. “Ex-friend at any rate. Catra didn’t leave. Instead she just _keeps_ going back to the very abusive systems that hurt her in the first place just so she can hurt others! As if she has something to prove? Who is she trying to prove it to?! Who was she trying to prove to by destroying everything?! I _tried_ to save her, to help her… and this is what she does in response!”

She pressed her palms at her eyes to staunch the tears and threw her head back, moaning from the pressure. Almost paradoxically, another layer wrapped around her and alleviated some of that pressure, soaking it up. It took her a moment to recognize it as a hug. And it took her even longer to register the elusive feeling associated with it. It was only when a stray thought about Bow and his dads that she was even able to identify it: _fatherly._

Shadow Weaver was the _farthest_ thing from a mother, but it was still the closest equable comparison.

She let herself be weak to let the walls crumble, hugging back the stable island in an ocean of uncertainty. Like all things, it had to end. Adora pulled away, a touch embarrassed.

“I hope you aren’t planning on anything rash or vengeful with this… Catra.” His tone was stern, as if implying…

Her eyes widened. “You mean… like _kill_ her? No! Heavens no! How could you even think that? How can anyone think like that? That’s not how the Rebellion does things! I meant saving like, like… no one should die.”

He planted a hand on her shoulder and spoke in a mournful tone. “Then your world is infinitely kinder than mine."

Adora shook her head. “It’s not easy. We can’t sink to the Horde’s level, because they’re filled with people that don’t know any better. People like how I used to be. Kids that thought they’re doing good. But even with minimal causalities overall… there are still causalities.”

“I know how you feel all too well,” Michael sighed out. “But every victory makes the struggle worth it.”

She nodded. “And then we go back to struggling.”

“Until the next win,” he said.

“Until the next win,” she echoed.

Harry and the others finally reappeared, corresponding with a knock on the door.

XXX

“It must be Luccio,” I announced aloud.

Nothing like relationship awkwardness to water down a very serious conversation about double-dealing denarians and the consequences of a magical alien. I almost wished for Molly to be here with Michael so he could deal with her obvious infatuation with me. But she wouldn’t be able to arrive here that quickly.

I opened the door to a complete stranger with a mask. The purple, flashy robe hid the feminine figure rather well, but the long dark locks gave it away. I half-expected a form-fitting robe with that fashion sense. The sinister mask had a crack down the middle and the tipped ears told me all that I needed to know.

“Impressive wards,” she commented.

“Thanks. Wanna try them out?” I challenged.

There was something off about her, so I extended my senses at her and gave a light knock against her. The projection crumbled like wet paper and she stumbled, hissing.

“Will you stop throwing your gangly magic around?” Do you know hard it is to project myself across galaxies?”

“You’re from Etheria,” I realized.

“Indeed, now may I –“

Adora pushed past me like she was still an eight-foot amazon.

“Shadow Weaver,” she hissed out.

I really hoped that there was some sort of magical translation in effect, because some of these names were just plain ridiculous.

“So, who are you?” I asked.

Her eyes flickered over my shoulder, where Kincaid and Ivy would be. She seemed to take something from them before she answered.

“I’m Adora’s mother,” she practically cooed out.

Adora tensed up, fists shaking at her side.

“More like commanding officer,” she snarled.

I was suddenly reminded of DuMorne and all that entailed. She knew there was little chance of that comment being bought by me with Adora around, but it was better as a barb. I scowled at this woman, who may have raised Adora, but certainly wasn’t her momma. I gently guided Adora to the side, stepping up to the plate. I wasn’t going to let a kid face off with their abusive mentor.

“Why are you here?”

Adora swatted at me, butting back in. “ _How_ are you here? You shouldn’t be able to communicate from Despondos.”

“To answer this sorcerer’s question –“

“Wizard,” I corrected.

“ _Queen_ Glimmer asked me to find you, Adora. Because they need She-Ra to activate the Heart of Etheria because the Princess Alliance is struggling. And it’s almost like you abandoned them, Adora.” Each sentence was like a blow against Adora, causing her to weaken and falter. And Shadow Weaver wasn’t done yet. “And to answer your question, Adora, on how I am here. Etheria is no longer in Despondos.”

Adora paled. “No...”

“You have been gone for a long time, Adora. Horde Prime is on his way and little can sway him from his course to Etheria. The Rebellion needs the sword, it needs She-Ra to activate the Heart of Etheria. The world and the gemstones have been balanced. But salvation cannot be achieved without you. It’s your destiny.”

“I...”

“Even with the Princesses’ increased power, they cannot beat back Horde Prime. Are you going to fail them, Adora?”

She just hammered it in, pressuring this kid with the weight of the world as if she were Atlas. I understood the urgency, but Adora might just break herself in the process of saving her world. All because this ‘ _mentor’_ couldn’t be damned to guide her ward with any modicum of good intent. I hoped to hell that I wouldn’t ever fail Molly even a quarter as badly as Shadow Weaver or DuMorne.

I blocked her view of Adora and readied a burst of will.

“Thanks for the intergalatic telegram. Now get off my lawn.”

Her projection shattered, the connection severing, but not before Shadow Weaver could twist the dagger with some last words. “Glimmer told me to tell you regarding Angella –“

“ _No!”_ Adora grabbed me and spun me around. “Why couldn’t you trust me to deal with her?”

I looked at her as kindly as I could. “Because I understand. These people get in your head and they blind you. And then when you react without thinking, the consequences haunt you.”

Her features softened. “I guess I understand. But… that last message...”

“It might have been a lie,” I pointed out.

She huffed, crossing her arms and turning away like the teenager she was at heart. Yeah, I definitely made the right choice.

“This a bad time, boss?” Molly asked, arriving my door.

I exhaled a sigh of relief. “Okay, good. You can watch Adora and help free us.”

“Mo’ problems?” she asked. I nodded languidly. She stood on her tippy toes to look by the two of us. “Hi, Dad.”

I shooed the two of them out.

XXX

“We should go shopping,” Molly said suddenly, nine minutes into their drive and after a brief recap of the entire situation.

“Why?” Adora looked down at her outfit.

“You look like something out of Star Trek.”

Adora tilted her head. “Star Trek?”

She giggled. “I’m totally going to introduce an actual alien to Star Trek. Oh! And if Harry ever tries to show you something called Star Wars, tell him you’re a Trekkie.”

“Okay?” She looked out the window of this moving vehicle. What a strange way to travel. Treads should be reserved tanks and such. But these people haven’t figured out hover technology. “So, it is like a book series?”

“No, it’s a television series.”

“Tele… vision?”

A gasp. “You don’t have TV?”

Adora shrugged. “Maybe? My time in the Horde didn’t allow such leisure.”

Molly tapped the steering wheel. “I don’t understand how you didn’t know the Horde was bad. They’re called the Horde. Not exactly all sparkles and rainbows.”

“I was raised in the Horde,” she muttered, flatly.

“Oh.” Molly coughed. “Well, I normally would be mad if Harry kept me away from trouble. But _aliens_. But it’s weird that we speak the same language. Is there a universal translator at work here?”

“Maybe the First Ones visited here too and we got the same language from them?”

Molly cackled. “Wouldn’t that put a twist in my mom’s panties. Ancient astronauts.”

And that was how their conversation went, more or less. It wasn’t bad or annoying, but it was very different and just made her long for Bow and Glimmer. Molly seemed to pick up on this, switching gears from the nauseating, overwhelming culture shock back to familiar territory.

“So, what’s with the bracelet? I’m sensing some powerful magic from it.”

“Oh!” Adora perked up, tearing her gaze away from this sprawling metropolis. “It’s my sword.”

“Sword?”

“I’d show you, but I’d skewer this car.”

“Don’t worry, I believe you. But it transforms you into… She-Ra?”

“Yeah. She-Ra. Princess of Power.”

Molly raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re also royalty? A _princess?_ ”

“Not really?” Adora heard something in Molly’s intonation about the word princess. “I think we have different connotations about the word princess.”

“And what do you think of the word, princess?” Molly asked.

“Magic, power, and responsibility.”

Molly pulled up to the curb. “Let’s get something to eat before we continue this conversation.”

Adora looked at the dingy, quaint building. And then back behind her, at the numerous structures stretching toward the sky. It was like… not a kind Fright Zone, but certainly a non-malicious one. She shivered, wondering if the rest of the world was like this, where industrialization triumphed over a natural, harmonious world. Perfuma would be disheartened by such a world.

“Normally I would take you to Burger King, but I blew up the drive-through one too many times.”

“Excuse me, what?” Adora spun around, suddenly concerned.

Molly looked at her strangely. “Does your magic not disrupt technology?”

“Why would it? The sword itself is a product of First Ones technology.”

She sighed with mournful exaggeration. “If it weren’t for that hairstyle and that horrible fashion sense, I’d be more jealous.”

“Sorry?”

She waved Adora off. “It’s fine. Anyway, keep your head down. We’ll just keep quiet and have some awesome steak sandwiches since unlike Harry, I have some disposable income. Thank you allowance. But still. Low profile.”

“Don’t worry. I have been in my fair share of seedy underbelly bars.”

“Oh, really? How many, princess?”

Adora coughed, looking away. “Like two.”

“Well, don’t worry. It’s more of an exclusive sorta club here for the people in the know. And you’re a magical princess. You’ll be fine.”

The whole affair went without incident save for the weird looks from the bartender. Still, she needed to eat while she had the opportunity. She wouldn’t be able to operate at full strength, how else would she get back? Even though a stab of guilt shot through her heart. How could she eat with greasy-stained hands while her friends were struggling for their lives? It was like a war being waged between those two conflicting emotions.

Up until her stomach rumbled.

And she had to admit that the steak sandwiches were to die for. Her mouth was full when the woman with the huge battle-axe limped in.

Adora shot her feet, manifesting the sword and shouting with a barely coherent mumble.

“ **Fr th hnr of Gryskull!”**

 ****The transformation into She-Ra was like being showered with sludge, cocooning her until it ejected her out into the world. The newcomer raised the battle-axe, it shaking slightly, while She-Ra met the challenge with her sword. She wasn’t sure how long the transformation would last. It was like an internal timer started in her sword, and she was attuned, aware that the sword was burning more magic than it could take in with the ambient energies in the air.

“Is she with you, Miss Carpenter?”

Molly stepped next to She-Ra, looking her up and down, and then at the hair. She tugged at her own. “You really are a princess. And yes, she is with me. What do you want, Gard?”

“We need your help.” Gard paused to analyze She-Ra, seemingly seeing some sort of solidarity. “And perhaps yours as well.”

“We have… _reason_ to believe that if we do not interfere, there will be grave consequences and we do not have contact with Dresden or any of his allies.”

Molly swore under her breath, pacing beside She-Ra. Normally, She-Ra would have stayed, but she transformed back into Adora to save the charge. Gard continued to look at her intently and Adora met the gaze.

“So, you want me to run a tracking spell on Harry. Why? What’s so pressing? Harry can handle himself.” Molly sounded like she wanted to agree with Gard and go, but disagreed on principle.

“For whatever reason, Tess has broken away from Nicodemus along with Thorned Namshiel. The two of them have been hounding Hendricks and me. And I don’t think even Accorded Neutral Territory will stop them. I’d rather not have any damages here weighing on my mind.”

“When it rains, it certainly pours,” Molly exclaimed. “Please tell me we’re taking your car. Because Mom is going to be mad if I leave the car here, but even madder if I got it destroyed.”

XXX

One suspiciously long stop back at Harry’s apartment for Molly to pick up ingredients for a tracking spell and they were back on track. Adora felt out of place here. There was no doubt that she had to help, but here she was: relegated to the backseat, both literally and figuratively. She had a direction, she had the sword, yet Adora was tagging along and her sword was sheathed. Figuratively, of course.

Her fingers picked at the blue gemstone in the bracelet. This was what she hated the most: the uncertainty. There was a clarity in having an objective and having her own two feet take here there. This was like being directed with a mission. It was just her, hanging on like a worthless parasite. If she couldn’t help, it might as well be her fault.

Molly shifted beside her, but otherwise focused on the compass on her lap. Was Adora that transparent in her anxiousness? It wasn’t like Molly herself wasn’t nervous. Adora’s origins had to be kept secret, Molly had said. Then she explained who Marcone was: a necessary evil, for now.

It left a bad taste in her mouth. All because Adora knew it all too well. From what was being unsaid here implied a lot. That this world was a little more mean, a little more cruel. Even though it made her yearn for Etheria, it just highlighted that her own world wasn’t much better if necessary evils were a universal constant.

She looked back at Molly. Their eyes didn’t meet any longer than a second, but Adora saw steel in those eyes, ready to take on the oncoming evil. As always, she’d like to think, that warriors would rise up to meet that evil and that they would win in the end. The next hour they somehow managed to figure out where they needed to go and then changed directions to a chartered helicopter. Adora was restless and that this feeling persisted even when they arrived at the airstrip.

So, she was almost thankfully when the car swerved to avoid a magical blast that shook the vehicle. Two figures were in the distance, blocking the path to the helicopter that they needed to talk.

“ **For the honor of Grayskull!”** She-Ra kicked the door clean off the hinge and leapt out, knowing she best give these two another target.

She landed, quaking the earth beneath her boots, as She-Ra rushed out to meet her foes. The woman disappeared and forming into a swarm of bugs to chase after the car. She tried to step after them, but the tall, withered and gray figure stepped in tandem, blocking her path. An aura of menace radiated out from it, so much so that it felt like negative emotions took a humanoid shape. She brandished her sword, settling into a stance. The creature clapped its hands in delight.

“To think I almost wouldn’t get a chance to see one of Father’s little accidents here on this green Earth. You’ve attracted a lot of attention. Well, your sword did. I wonder when I peel the flesh from your bones should I destroy the sword or let you die with the knowledge that we shall subvert it to our own ends.”

“I don’t know who or what you are, but you best surrender.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Molly through flashes of bright magic that was ineffective against the chasing swarm. And their goal, the helicopter, remained tantalizingly within their reach. She took a step to the right and the thing followed.

“Come! Let us see how Etheria’s magic developed away from the influences of this Earth!”

“How do you know about Etheria?!” she shouted.

It smiled. “The shadows told us.”

Adora nearly stilted in her stance. _Shadow Weaver._ It had to be Shadow Weaver. She must have hedged her bets, for whatever nefarious design she had planned. She didn’t know why she was so surprised that Shadow Weaver did such a thing. Why was it still possible to be hurt again by people she knew were bad?

She jumped at the creature, closing the distance. It raised a hand, clutching some sort of vibrating trinket. Her sword resonated, rumbling in sync before freezing midair with her still attached. She-Ra was suspended in the air, clutching at the sword. It reared its free hand back and She-Ra’s eyes widened. A hellish fire gathered in its fist, streams of smoke writhing like snakes. She pulled herself up, forced the sword to change, and hid behind the shield.

The blast wasn’t anything like she ever felt before. A scream clawed its way out her throat as she skittered across the ground, the fire nipping at the edges of her She-Ra form. Like a stitched-up doll, falling apart at the seams, she was losing her shape.

She-Ra hissed, gathering the energy and stuffing it back inside. She reached for her sword, freezing with dread when it closed around empty air.

Looking up, she saw the creature holding the sword and running a long finger across the edge.

“How fascinating. Guiding a mantle with technology. I wonder if I should persevere it.” It whispered the next sentence to itself and She-Ra couldn’t help but to Listen. “Nicodemus wants it, but I do not care particularly for it...”

Whenever She-Ra was separated from her sword, there was always a small fear that she would instantly revert back to Adora. Unless there were actual, extenuating circumstances, She-Ra was free to fling her sword around all she wanted.

She-Ra staggered back onto her feet, the heat closing in on her form. It congealed on the unreal parts of her body, the extensions granted by She-Ra onto the smaller body of Adora. It was pushing down, trying to force her back into an unpowered shape. Once again, she stoked that fire inside her, letting it radiate and refresh She-Ra, melting away the fire. The creature looked on idly, holding the sword haphazardly, but she could tell he was working some magic on it. If she didn’t disrupt it… something grave was about to happen. She-Ra was no stranger to fisticuffs, but the creature outclassed her and would force a ranged fight.

Yet, the sword was _hers._

She focused out of desperation, recognizing the connection of the sword to She-Ra and then… reversed it: She-Ra to the sword. Raising a hand, she tugged at that newly created connection and changed the sword.

A flash of light bloomed as the blade bent out of shape, zig-zagging from the hilt and into the heart. His eyes widened, human in the fear and shock, before morphing back into inhuman outrage. It spoke one word, with depths that she could not fathom: exhausting a life to pour power into that word.

_SHATTER._

Then it dropped the sword, its form melting away to reveal an emancipated man. A man with a red spot upon his chest. Something gurgled in She-Ra’s throat.

_Dead._

_Killed._

_Murdered._

It was one thing to be a part of war with death and it was another matter entirely to kill, to cause death. A sense of unreality centered in on this image; if she could turn away, it would be like it never happened. She-Rad didn’t turn away, gravitating toward the corpse. She fell onto her knees, by her sword.

“I can fix this.” She gripped the sword. “ _I can fix this!”_

She raised the sword, trying to channel the magic through and heal him. If she tried hard enough, hoped hard enough –

But dead was dead, here on Earth and Etheria. Molly ran into her tugging at her.

“Adora, we have to go! They can’t hold off Tessa for long and they’ll leave without us!”

She-Ra turned to the helicopter, hovering on its side to use the blades to beat back the bugs. They wouldn’t stay for long, severing ties if they had to.

A foolish move. Though it was grief that motivated her to do so once upon a time – thinking Entrapa dead – it backfired and led to Entrapa working for the Horde. Never let it be said that Adora didn’t learn from her mistakes.

And she wouldn’t let others make the same mistake. Though her sword was red, her hands were clean. She stared at the body, at the cooling blood, and swore with all her heart that this wouldn’t happen again. Molly maneuvered around Adora, picking up a darkened coin with a piece of cloth, and handled it as one would with excrement.

The helicopter, unable to keep a tilted axis, ascended and started to soar over the two of them. She-Ra changed her sword into the bracelet, wrapped an arm around Molly’s waist, and launched herself into the air. The helicopter’s landing skids were just within reach.

Her fingers grazed it.

Then they began to fall, impetus and inertia fading. Molly flailed, squirming and screaming, and a floating pool of insects rushed up underneath them. A few seconds more and they would flop into an unforgiving ocean of air and chittering mass.

She shunted her arm further, feeling it nearly tug out of her socket. The sword slithered around in the form of a lasso and wrangling around the skids. They latched out, dangling from the vehicle.

For now, they were safe.

But this was merely the lull before the storm.

XXX

As they rode out to their destination of some spooky island, She-Ra started to feel a twinge. A nigh-indescribable feeling that accompanied the burgeoning beat in her heart. She pressed a shaky hand over her chest, now able to register that her heart was skipping several beats as if something wedged its way into the rhythm.

Something was wrong and it took her a moment to remember what it was. It was almost hard to recall after all the times of strength and power as She-Ra. Those little moments of Catra doing something dangerous during Horde training and those lingering confrontations with Shadow Weaver…

Nervousness.

It wasn’t a case of the nerves or worry for her friends and allies. It was full-blown nervousness. She-Ra wasn’t supposed to be nervous. These were the days that she had the strength to do what was right, to bring balance to Etheria. And Adora wasn’t sure she could do it as herself. Without her friends to help lift her up, those thoughts dragged her down more than they should.

Especially dangerous during the lead-up before battle. Gard was strapped in, holding a large blaster with a huge magazine. Another peculiarity of this world: bullets. A rather barbaric practice in truth, because a person with a blaster had options. Those who chose to kill actively chose to do so. Here, there was no alternative and perhaps this was why death seemed to be so common here.

Yet, would She-Ra’s idea of how to handle life and death disrupt things here? Did her very presence cause some ripples for the worst? Did Earth really need a She-Ra? An unsure She-Ra at that? She eyed the blaster again. It was clear that there was no stun setting to it. A weapon designed to kill.

Confronting Gard on this was a priority for later. Adora had her fair share of bickering during critical moments and learned to push it either before or after the fight.

She-Ra manifested the sword, startled that the circuit patterns were not an erratic scrawl. Perhaps it was responding to her emotions?

Something to mull over later. She could still fight. While She-Ra had a feeling that Molly could be trusted to keep clean hands, Gard was a seasoned warrior. One that gave off a vibe that reminded her off Huntara.

She-Ra must be better, faster, and stronger to keep the causalities to the bare minimum. She shook her head, trying to dislodge that thought. A thought that she never seemed to have on Etheria. It seemed this world was infecting her, to believe in the worst.

She refused and took on all the burdens, all the responsibility for the coming battle.

Music was suddenly switched on, the doors opened up. Gard stepped up, ready to deal out death and secure a landing zone. Adora rushed past her, jumping out and soaring like an angel.

And She-Ra landed like the fist of an angry god.

XXX

So many events occurred in such a short time: soulfire discovered, Marcone and Ivy secured, and She-Ra now dropping from the sky and onto the island of Demonreach.

She landed and already launched herself again into the fray. She fought like a woman possessed, truly exemplifying the valkyrie resemblance. But there was no bloodlust or fury in those eyes. Only a sort of desperation that one only saw when lives were on the line. Strange dichotomy as she used her magical sword as a magical baseball bat to fling a man into three others.

Michael was at the helicopter helping load Marcone and Ivy in. Gard looked out of place and disappointed with the large machine gun. She gave Michael a confused, almost baffled look. And Michael didn’t notice as he was busy giving Molly the stern dad look. Molly flinched instead of shrinking, an untypical reaction at a scolding.

Then I could feel it. The sudden weight so palpable that even I noticed it.

The Eldest Gruff had arrived.

I readied my shield, but it was not enough as he crushed me down through a single burst of will and power. Michael stood tall, sword raised against the Gruff.

Michael shouted something at Molly just as my ears started to ring. Michael didn’t get into the helicopter, forcing Molly to stay on. As they took off, Gard glanced at Molly with a foreboding look and my heart sunk.

“No,” I whispered. “ _No!”_

I dredged up that raw soulfire and threw it in the metaphorical furnace, screaming it all out. The Gruff was no suped-up god and couldn’t keep me down for long. I fired out a wall of soulfire to drive him back, turning to Michael as if he could so something to save Molly. But I drew too much soulfire, only able to wheeze out dead air. The Gruff waved off the wall, directing it back into the ground. I wasn’t able to catch most of the scene as the bullets peppered the helicopter, causing it to waver and fly back low to the ground with Molly dangling, limp and nigh lifeless.

Michael screamed his daughter’s name and a need to hurt someone to do something with this rage overtook me. Nicodemus was fighting against Adora in the corner of my eye, using his shadow to drive her back, but my attention honed in on the still sizzling soulfire beneath the ground. I used it in conjunction with a steady, rage-filled earth magic. I flung the Eldest Gruff into the fight between Adora and Nicodemus, hoping to force the fae to fight the fallen angel.

And then the enormity of what I just did struck me. Despite it all, despite the eight foot appearance, Adora was a teenager from a much kinder world and I just threw a shark at her while she was fighting against the undertow.

The clarity of this act came at too high of a cost, but it allowed me to see that Michael was about to make the same mistake I did. Before he could, I grabbed his arm to stop him. The snarling that rose from him shocked me. It was out of place and out of character for a good man like him.

“Michael, your daughter needs _you._ Find Murphy, go to the crashed helicopter and keep your daughter _safe._ ”

“ _They hurt her._ She might be...” he trailed off, eyes blinking tears.

“All the more reason to _go_ to her. You might not have faith right now, but be her rock. Something that she could have faith in. _She needs you._ ”

He swallowed, nodding and heading off.

Meanwhile I had to save an alien princess from a fallen angel.

XXX

The old goat slammed into the noose-tied man, but that didn’t stop the shadow. The sword did well at first, able to touch and hurt the shadow. Then the battle dragged on and on and She-Ra got less and less sure. Cracks started to spider-web across the blade, corresponding with her doubt, but still She-Ra fought on.

She turned her attention to the helicopter, hoping to see her allies safe and saw only tragedy. It was making an emergency landing, with Molly… hanging helplessly. She-Rad had to disengage, while she still could and save Molly.

Hope. That traitorous, fickle emotion that saved many from despair in the darkest of moments. Hope. That saving grace that drove them even further in despair when it could not save them. Hope. That feeling that triggered the curse placed on the sword.

It shattered, along with her resolve.

The shadow threw her hard into a tree, her back _snapping._ She didn’t even scream, for the enormity of all her failures crashed down on her harder than her broken back. Dazed and nearly dead, she could barely see Harry standing over her, trying to maintain a shield for the two of them. The only thing she could focus on was a line of thought spiraling downwards that dragged all the details of her existence into a single point of despair.

Molly was good as dead. Etheria was doomed. Some She-Ra she was. But Adora, even drowning in this despair, needed to make her death do _something_. She tugged at Harry’s pant leg, forcing out two words.

“ _Leave me.”_

Harry shook her off. “Not doing that, kid.”

Adora couldn’t even do that right. She blinked, seeing a sword that wasn’t there before. Maybe she could stab at their legs. Trying to reach out for it felt like thread of her flesh and muscle were being stripped away from her arm, inch by inch. She clenched her teeth so hard it felt like they might shatter too. Through all of the pain and dying hope, she curled her fingers around the hilt.

Her mind’s eyes blossomed, blurring away that dreadfully reality and replaced it with a place that was almost like Etheria. Adora couldn’t remember the details, except for the feelings it inspired. But it was somehow different in a manner that Adora couldn’t describe. Like trying to articulate the difference between red and blue. The only detail that stood out in this not-place was a great stone castle with a man standing right in front of it. For a few seconds, he looked like Angella, except greater and more awe-inspiring. His form changed constantly before it settled on a familiar blond man that Adora should have recognized.

“Hello, Adora,” the angel being said.

“Uh… hello?” Adora waved uncertainly at the man before realizing she was standing on her two legs here. She quirked a somber smile.

“Time is short and I have a lot to explain.”

“Okay? But time is also short for me too.”

“Your effort, while valiant, would ultimately be wasted.” He looked at her it and it was like the weight of several galaxies were thrust upon her, far greater than her own melancholy. “You were brought here for a reason. Because the adversary saw fit to utilize a weapon that would cleanse whole star systems of life.”

“What weapon?”

“You know it, Adora.”

“What?” The angel did not answer. Could not answer. Then it came to her. “No...”

“Yes.”

“But… the Heart of Etheria… It couldn’t...”

“Your sword, and subsequently you, were the linchpin.”

Adora pressed her head in her hands, as if she could hide away. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because the weapon would, in the process of activating, tap into the universal forces of creation and destruction. A domain that concerns me and thus enables me to act.”

She pulled away. “Then it’s a good thing it’s destroyed.”

“But linchpins can be replaced, thought not so easily. And another enemy conspired to destroy your sword to prolong existence, only for the chance to enter back into reality. The only good that came out of that is the time it afforded everyone. The adversary cannot use it here, but time’s about to run out. For another will be able to access it, through a method of ingenuity that beings like I cannot make into reality. Mortal innovation.”

“Horde Prime,” Adora whispered.

“And that’s a battlefront I cannot fight. I cannot choose who fights, but I can help guide the battlefront.” He sighed, suddenly sorrowful like he was about to shed tears. “It’s a horrible necessity to calculate the numbers. To bring war here, to relieve Etheria of fighting an impossible battle. Without you, they _will_ lose. It’s just a matter of when. But to preserve the most life I can, I will do what I must.”

Adora frowned. “I’m still a linchpin. A beacon for Horde Prime if I draw his attention.”

“Yes.”

“But I’m not She-Ra anymore.”

“The adversary cheated, lied to bring you here in the hopes of achieving his goals far more easily. With four words, he changed fate. So, I am allowed four words of pure truth: _you have the power.”_

Adora looked down at her hands, seeing the filth and grime. Underneath the muck and flesh, there was a pulsating will underneath and closed them, collecting that willpower. “If I do this, it will give me the best possible chance of saving everyone?”

“Not everyone. Just the greatest number possible.”

Adora shook her head. “I can’t think like that. I have to try and do the very best, even if it's impossible, otherwise I might as well not try at all.”

The angel smiled. “That’s one of the reasons why I admire humanity, because of people like you. And that’s why you’re She-Ra.”

The vision ended and Adora’s hand clenched around this strange sword. It couldn’t change her into She-Ra. It wasn’t made to do it. Not on its own anyway. She closed her eyes, trying to decipher the words the angel delivered.

_I have the power._

Her eyes shot open.

She-Ra wasn’t a sword.

She-Ra was her.

_I have the power._

Finding impossible strength, she somehow managed to stand on shaky legs and started to rise the sword, despite being as heavy as a mountain. Harry turned to her, wide-eyed. The noose-tied man’s eyes were suddenly afraid and the old goat looked curious.

She took a single ember of magic from the sword, from the nail inside it, and took it in, letting it start a kindling fire, full of warmth. Adora was the one who stoked it, molding it, and letting it take shape. Then she made it into reality with words of power, imprinting the inward magic outward.

“ **I have the power!”** A spotlight shone down from the heavens and enveloped her, blasting the immediate area with bursts of magic. She held the sword, grabbing the end of it with her other hand. She looked over her shoulder, seeing the ghostly, golden images of the thousands that came before her. Mara, the last She-Ra, smiled at her, proud of her successor. And Adora understood Mara better, why she did what she did. The previous trigger phrase seemed inadequate to encompass the scope of the current conflict. “ **For the honor of all!”**

With that declaration, she took the final step. Adora: She-Ra, Princess of Power and Knight of the Cross stepped out of the light and the forces of evil fled before her. Adora waited to confirm their total retreat.

Satisfied, she turned to Harry. “Now, it’s time to save Molly.”

They rushed to the damaged helicopter, where Michael cradled a dying Molly among a crowd of somber, mourners. Though unfamiliar to her, they were clearly allie. Adora smiled reassuringly as best as she could.

She planted the sword in front of Molly and knelt. The sword was only a conduit for She-Ra and so she channeled the magic inside her through the sword. It washed over Molly, rejuvenating her and closing her wounds.

Molly opened her eyes, confused, but alive. “Daddy?”

“Thank the Lord.” Michael hugged her tight.

Adora picked up the sword. “I’m sorry, everyone, but the war’s not over.”

Harry looked at her as she killed the mood. “What do you mean?”

“According to the angel, the universe, or most of the universe including Earth would have been destroyed if I didn’t do what I just did.”

“Shoot a massive beam of light in the sky?” Harry asked.

“Yes. There’s a massive, magical superweapon on Etheria and it would have doomed us all had I not drawn their attention to Earth.”

“Who?” Harry demanded.

Ivy staggered, before looking to the sky. Flocks of star ships burst on in, blotting out the sky.

“Who?” Harry whispered now.

Adora squeezed the sword, ready to fight, ready to save the universe.

“Horde Prime.”


End file.
